


Won't You Give Me What I Want?

by gracerene



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Harry Potter, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry Potter, Canonical Character Death, Community: hp_crossgenfest, Cross-Generation Relationship, First Time, Grimmauld Place, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Living Together, Loss of Virginity, M/M, POV Harry Potter, Post-Hogwarts, Remus Lupin Lives, Rimming, Top Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-11 13:25:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15316449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracerene/pseuds/gracerene
Summary: Harry knows what he wants,whohe wants. What Harry doesn't know is how to ask him for it.





	Won't You Give Me What I Want?

**Author's Note:**

> All the thanks to my fab betas for looking this over, and to the prompter for the inspiring prompt!

It was past nine by the time that Harry finally got home. He'd been held late at Auror training, and then he'd gone to Ron and Hermione's for dinner at their new flat. Harry knew he couldn't cancel, and he was happy to see his friends, but he also knew that Molly and Arthur would be watching Teddy tonight, which meant that if Harry played his cards right, he'd get to spend an evening alone with Remus. Not that Harry had anything against Teddy—he loved his godson more than he'd thought possible—but Harry also loved Remus, and even if Remus didn't feel quite the same way, Harry couldn't pass up an opportunity to spend time with him.

Harry wasn't quite sure when he realised that his feelings for his former professor—and one of his father's best mates—were far from platonic. It was after the war, that much he was sure of, once Remus and Teddy had come to live with Harry at Grimmauld Place. With Tonks dead, Remus hadn't been able to stomach living in the home they'd made together, but given the still-rampant discrimination against werewolves, he hadn't been able to find any other decent accommodations. Harry had been incredibly nervous when he'd finally worked up the courage to invite Remus and Teddy to live with him in his too-large home, sure that Remus would see it as charity and refuse out of a misplaced sense of pride. The truth of the matter was that Harry was lonely, living all by himself, and he'd thought it might be nice to have some company. He could have stayed at the Burrow, of course, but the Weasleys clearly needed time to grieve as a family, and even though they assured Harry he was part of that family, it still felt like he was intruding on their bereavement. Shockingly, though, when Harry had made the offer, Remus graciously accepted. He and Teddy had moved in the next day, and had been there ever since.

It was surprising, how quickly and easily the three of them fell into sync. Remus was able to find a job editing textbooks that, while not the most stimulating work in the world, at least provided steady hours and a decent enough wage. Andromeda would watch Teddy during the days while Harry and Remus were at work, and at night, Harry would prepare dinner while Remus entertained his son. At first, Harry felt hesitant about helping out with Teddy, not wanting to overstep his bounds, and Remus, of course, didn't want to impose, constantly reminding Harry that he was still young and didn't need to deal with the responsibility of caring for a small child. But eventually they found a middle ground, slipping effortlessly into a routine that made something inside Harry go soft and quiet with satisfaction.

Of course, he wasn't expecting to fall for Remus, wasn't expecting that, somewhere along the way, his feelings would shift from _liking living with Remus_ to just plain _liking Remus_. Naturally, he'd done his best to ignore it, fully aware that Remus didn't see him that way, but unfortunately, logic didn't seem to have any impact of his feelings. It certainly didn't help matters that he was an eighteen-year-old virgin who had suddenly discovered his sex drive, thanks to the recent lack of Dark Lords trying to do him in. 

He wondered if this is what it had been like for his schoolmates back at Hogwarts, unable to go more than five minutes without thinking about sex. It was bloody distracting, the constant hum of low-level desire buzzing through his body, flaring and pulsing at the most inconvenient of times. The furthest Harry had ever gone had been with Ginny, and even that had really just been some intensely memorable snogging. He regretted not having done more with her when he'd had the chance, certain that half the reason he was currently going mad with lust was due to his complete lack of experience. It was like his libido had decided to kick into overdrive now that Voldemort was dust, and Harry had no bloody idea what to do about it.

Well, Harry had a _few_ ideas about what he could do about it. Really, he wasn't short on ideas at all; it was the getting those ideas to become reality that Harry was struggling with. Going somewhere wizarding was right out—he didn't want to end up inundated with sycophantic fans, and he was pretty sure he'd be far too worried about the encounter ending up in the _Prophet_ the next morning to even get it up in the first place. He wasn't sure that a Muggle place would be much better. Harry had never been the kind of person to go out to bars or clubs hoping to pull some fit bird or bloke, and he honestly hadn't the faintest clue how to even go about it. Just the thought of all the flashing lights and loud music made him break out into a cold sweat. He didn't want his first time to be with some anonymous, meaningless person. It wasn't like he wanted rose petals and candles and romance, not really, but he was nervous enough about the whole thing as it was, and he'd prefer to at least be with somebody who cared about him. 

What he really wanted was to have his first time with somebody more experienced, somebody who knew what they were doing and who could show Harry the ropes. Somebody who wouldn't make fun of Harry's lack of knowledge, who would be patient with him, who would make it _good_ for him. What Harry wanted was _Remus_ , but he knew that was just a fantasy. Remus had lost his wife less than a year ago, and Harry wasn't even certain if Remus was attracted to men at all, though Harry suspected that he was. Of course, that didn't mean that Remus would ever be attracted to _Harry_ , a boy half his age, somebody he'd practically watched grow up.

Harry wasn't sure if their history was as much of an issue as he was making it out to be. Knowing Remus, if they ever _were_ to get together, there was bound to be bucketloads of angst over their age difference and all the other obstacles between them, but over the past six months of living together, Harry at least felt certain that Remus saw him as an adult. Ever since that awful fight they'd had during the war, right after Teddy's birth, something had changed between them. Remus treated him like an equal now, almost like Sirius had, except it was better, because Harry never felt like Remus was seeing James when he looked at Harry. Remus knew who Harry was and he cared for him, respected him, and that knowledge made Harry's insides glow with warm satisfaction. 

As expected, Harry found Remus in the study, sitting on the sofa by the fire with a manuscript on his lap and a red quill in his hand. His light brown hair glowed in the flickering light, and his brow was faintly furrowed as his eyes scanned the page in front of him. Harry wanted to reach out and touch him, wanted to smooth out the lines between his eyebrows with his thumb. He settled for clearing his throat instead.

"Are you really working on edits during your evening off?"

Remus blinked and looked up at him, a faintly sheepish expression on his face. "It gives me something to do."

Harry suppressed a sigh. Remus really needed to learn how to relax. "Well, I'm here now, so no more working. We've got to do something _actually_ fun. It's not every night you don't have Teddy to look after."

Remus frowned. "The same goes for you, Harry. It's Friday night, you should be out with your friends, not keeping a tired old man like me company."

Harry settled on the edge of the loveseat next to Remus's chair and gave him his most unimpressed look—he'd modeled it after Hermione's, so he knew it was a good one. "You're not that old, and I like spending time with you." Remus opened his mouth, but Harry continued speaking, not allowing him the time to interject. "Besides, I already saw my friends. I ate dinner at Ron and Hermione's new flat after training finished." 

This time it was Remus's turn to look unimpressed—as a father and a former professor, Remus had clearly mastered the expression. "I'm glad you spent some time with Ron and Hermione, but eating dinner in wasn't exactly what I meant. You should be going out, meeting people." Remus cleared his throat, a faint flush suffusing his cheeks as he looked away. "I appreciate that you haven't brought anybody over while Teddy is here, but if you wanted some company on the nights that Teddy stays with Molly or Andromeda…"

Harry blinked at Remus, his own cheeks heating as he realised what Remus was implying. "I—" He broke off, unsure of what he could even say to that. The idea of discussing sex and relationships with Remus sent a wave of heat rolling through his body, half mortification, half eager desire.

For his part, Remus didn't exactly look comfortable either, but he seemed determined to make his point. "You're a young man, Harry. It might have been a while since I was your age, but I do remember what it was like. I don't want you to feel constrained because of Teddy and I."

"I don't!" Harry assured him. He didn't want Remus to think Harry's inability to pull had anything to do with Remus. Or, well, technically it kind of did, but not for the reasons Remus was thinking. Harry looked down at his lap. "I love having you and Teddy here, honest. And stop going on about how you both hold me back." He looked up at Remus, wanting to convey his conviction. "I'm an adult, Remus. I'd appreciate it if you could stop acting like you know what'll make me happy better than I do."

Remus looked chagrined. He sighed and nodded. "Yes, of course, Harry. You're right. I just don't want you to miss out on anything, that's all."

Harry felt a flash of guilt for snapping, and he smiled at Remus. "I know. But I promise you, you're not. Even without you both living here, I doubt I'd be out at the clubs every night trying to pull."

"No?" 

Harry's throat went dry and he shook his head. "I don't think I'm much cut out for that kind of scene, to be honest. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't want…" He trailed off, flushing. "I guess I don't really know how to find what I really want."

"And what is it that you want?" Remus asked, his voice a bit lower than even his usual baritone. An involuntary shiver worked its way up Harry's spine.

He shrugged, but he felt himself give in beneath Remus's steady gaze. "I think I want a bloke," Harry said softly, staring intently at his hands resting flat on his thighs. He didn't think he'd ever admitted that out loud before. "I mean, I like girls, but...I think maybe I like blokes more." Harry chanced a glance over at Remus. He looked the same as ever, kind and interested, not a sliver of surprise or judgement on his face. The firelight reflecting in his eyes gave them a curious gleam that made Harry's stomach clench.

Remus seemed to realise Harry was waiting for some kind of response. "That's perfectly normal, Harry. Many wizards are attracted to the same sex." He paused, and the moment felt heavy and significant, as if he were weighing his next words carefully. "Myself included."

Harry's breath caught. He'd suspected, hoped, even, but having it confirmed sent a giddy exhilaration flowing through him. Harry tried not to be too obvious. "Really?" he asked, his voice coming out in an embarrassing squeak.

Remus smiled at him. "Really. It's nothing to be ashamed of. If you wanted to find someone of the same sex to be with, there are plenty of establishments that cater specifically to those needs."

Harry's heart raced as he couldn't help but picture Remus at one of those clubs, searching for his own company for the night. The thought filled him with hunger and jealousy both. He wondered what kind of men Remus was attracted to, and if Harry could ever fit that mold.

"I know," Harry replied, once the dryness in his throat had cleared. "But it's not just that. I, um, haven't actually ever, you know...with anybody." His face was on fire, but he forced himself to look at Remus. Something that looked a lot like hunger rippled across Remus's expression and Harry breath caught as he forced himself to continue on. "I want somebody older, more experienced. Somebody I trust not to sell the story to the _Prophet_. Someone who I know will make it good for me."

Harry was looking into Remus's eyes as he spoke, so he didn't miss the flare of heat, the sudden flash of desire that Harry _knew_ wasn't just wishful thinking. His hands shook with shocked euphoria as he realised that his feelings weren't as entirely one sided as he'd previously believed. This was unmistakable proof that Remus was interested. Of course, Harry knew that getting Remus to act on those feelings would be another matter entirely. 

The tension in the room built, practically crackling with the force of its intensity. Even Remus couldn't deny what was happening between them. He couldn't claim that he didn't know that Harry had been talking about him just now, couldn't deny that Harry had recognised Remus's own desire in return. 

"Harry…" Remus said in warning, his voice low and shaky. "We can't."

Harry scooted forward in his seat, leaning towards Remus, their knees knocking together. "Why not, Remus?" Harry asked. "I want you. I _trust_ you. You won't hurt me." He cocked his head to the side, and he didn't miss the greedy way Remus's eyes flicked to his throat. The full moon was still a week away, but some instincts were too deeply ingrained to ever fully fade. "You'd make it so good for me, wouldn't you Remus? You'd take care of me."

Remus's entire body shuddered at Harry's words, his eyelids fluttering closed as some cross between pleasure and pain spasmed across his face. "Harry," Remus said again, and Harry wasn't sure if it was meant to be a rebuke or a request. He wasn't sure Remus knew, either.

Harry leaned a little further forward, resting his palms on Remus's knees as he pressed close, his face inches from Remus's own. "If you don't want me, then we can pretend this never happened. But don't hold back for my sake. Let me decide for myself what I want." Remus's expression was a study in indecision. Harry took a deep breath, and played his final card. "Please, Remus?"

"God _damn_ you," Remus growled, before threading his fingers through Harry's hair and pulling him forward those final few inches. Harry gasped as their lips touched, and Remus's tongue slid easily inside, kissing him with a passion that had his toes curling in his socks. The position was awkward, and it didn't take long before Harry's muscles began to tense from holding himself in place, but he didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to stop, not when stopping the kiss might lead to Remus coming to his senses. 

Harry's fingers found their way to the buttons of Remus's shirt, but he only managed to undo two of them before Remus pulled away, his hand halting Harry's progress. The bottom dropped out of Harry's stomach, and he forced himself to meet Remus's gaze, steeling himself for Remus's inevitable rejection.

"We should go upstairs," Remus said instead. "Your first time should be in a bed."

"Really?" Harry couldn't stop himself from asking. He cursed himself for giving Remus another opportunity to back out, but he still couldn't believe this was happening, that Remus wanted him, that he'd given in. 

Remus's lips quirked in a self-deprecating smile. "Really. You've made it clear I'm what you want, and apparently I can't deny you anything."

Harry frowned, a sudden chill pickling over his skin as he stood up. "I don't want this if it's not something you want to. Don't…" He shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself and refusing to look over at Remus as a sick feeling curdled his insides. "Don't do this just because you think it's what I want. You don't owe me that."

"Harry," Remus said on a sigh as he stepped in close. "Look at me." When Harry still wouldn't, he slid two fingers beneath Harry's chin, guiding him until Harry's face was angled his way. His expression was gentle, displaying none of the indecision that Harry knew must be lurking beneath. "I can't deny that there are quite a lot of reasons why we shouldn't do this, but my not wanting you isn't one of them. I won't pretend I'm not worried about the others. It's...it would probably be for the best if we put a stop to this right now."

"Is that what you want?" Harry asked.

Remus hesitated. "It's what I _should_ want. It'll be easier that way. Safer."

"That's not what I asked."

"I know," Remus said simply, clearly leaving the decision in Harry's hands. Harry wasn't sure how to feel about that, but he _did_ know that what he wanted hadn't changed.

Harry blinked at Remus. His earlier chill had been replaced by a slow-simmering heat bubbling up from his core. When he spoke, his voice was surprisingly even. "Take me to bed, Remus."

Something flashed in Remus's eyes—disappointment, resignation, triumph, Harry couldn't tell which—before he nodded and turned towards the door. Harry wasn't sure where he was expecting Remus to lead him, but somehow he was still surprised when they ended up in Remus's bedroom, Remus closing the door behind them with a soft _snick_. Harry hadn't been in this room since Remus had moved in, wanting to respect Remus's privacy, and being in there now was almost overwhelming. It was decorated simply, the bed frame and chest of drawers made of dark wood, the bedspread and curtains done up in complementary shades of dark green and cream. Harry took a deep breath, and his nostrils filled with the scent of Remus, strong and undiluted here in his personal space. The aroma was warm and musky, undeniably masculine. Just a hint of it as he passed Remus in the hallway was often enough to make Harry's pulse race, and being confronted now with such saturation of the intoxicating fragrance made Harry's knees go wobbly and his cock fatten up.

Harry turned to face Remus, unsure how to proceed, but Remus apparently had no such qualms. He pressed in close, his body radiating warmth as a broad palm cupped Harry's cheek and pulled him in for another kiss. This one was slower, softer, than their kiss in the study, but it still managed to light Harry up from the inside out. He melted into it, his fingers resting against Remus's chest, clutching at the rumpled fabric. Remus's free hand slid down the curve of Harry's back, and even through cotton, his touch sent sparks vibrating across Harry's skin. By the time Remus's palm came to rest against Harry's lower back, fingertips just skimming the top of Harry's arse, Harry thought he might actually combust.

"What do you want, Harry?" Remus asked when their lips finally parted.

"Huh?" Harry blinked at him, his thoughts syrupy slow.

Remus's lips spread in an amused smile, and the sight sent a bolt of pure sweetness straight through Harry's belly. "This is your first time, Harry, so what do you want? We can do anything you'd like."

Possibilities stretched before Harry, varied and limitless. There was no end to the things Harry wanted to experience, things he wanted to experience with _Remus_. But if he only had this one time with him, then Harry knew what he wanted to start with. 

"I want everything, whatever you'll give me," Harry murmured softly. "But mostly, I really want to know what it feels like when you fuck me."

Remus's eyes went black, the dark expanse of his pupils widening as he stared at Harry with pure hunger. When he spoke, his voice was gravel-rough. "Are you sure? Most people prefer to work up to that. It'll hurt." He said the last bit bluntly, as if hoping to scare Harry off. Harry wasn't deterred.

"But it'll feel good too, won't it?" Harry countered. "I'm sure. I want this, Remus. I know you'll make it good for me. I trust you."

Remus shuddered and nodded. "Well, then, we should get undressed." His hands went to the buttons on his shirt, and Harry's mouth went dry.

"Can I...can I do it?"

Remus raised a brow, but his fingers fell to his side in obvious invitation. Harry suppressed a curse when his own fingers shook as he undid the smooth buttons, but Remus didn't laugh. He watched silently with those lust-dark eyes as Harry ran his palms across Remus's chest, his fingertips gliding over hair and scars as he pushed Remus's shirt over his shoulders to fall in a puddle at his feet. Remus's trousers were next, the clinking of his belt loud and suggestive in the relative silence of the room. It made Harry's palms sweat as he undid Remus's flies and sunk to his knees before him, pulling Remus's trousers down as he went. 

He looked up at Remus then, registering the loud, panting breaths that weren't solely his own. Remus's expression was ravenous, and Harry couldn't help his whimper as pure lust overwhelmed him. A rough hand reached out and cupped his cheek, and Harry pressed into it as Remus's thumb stroked across his cheekbone down to the cupid's bow of his lip. His mouth fell open as if on instinct, and Remus groaned, the thick bulge of Remus's cock twitching in front of Harry's face. 

Harry's mouth watered, and he was struck with the sudden need to see all of Remus, to smell him, to _taste_ him. He reached for the waistband of Remus's pants and tugged them down, revealing the heavy length of Remus's erection. Harry's breath caught. He'd seen other erections before—it was impossible to avoid it when living in a boy's dormitory for six years—but never this close, and never like this. If he'd had any doubt before that he liked men, this would have clinched it, the pure desire to get his mouth on Remus impossible to ignore. Before he had a chance, though, Remus hooked his hands beneath Harry's arms and tugged him to his feet.

Harry flashed Remus a petulant look, and he might have felt embarrassed about it if it weren't for the pleased amusement on Remus's face at Harry's annoyance. 

"My turn," Remus said simply, before running his hands all over Harry and divesting him of his own clothing. He fought the urge to cover himself as Remus revealed his lean chest and knobbly knees. Harry knew he wasn't quite as scrawny and underfed as he'd been towards the end of the war, but compared to Remus's solid body, he felt awkward and self-conscious in comparison. Remus seemed to like what he saw though, his hands appreciative and possessive as they stroked over his arms, across his collarbones, and down his sides. 

Remus leaned in and kissed him again, the feeling so much more intense now that they were both naked. There was no fabric muting the heat of Remus's body, no barriers preventing him from feeling the slick head of Remus's dick as it rubbed against his thigh. 

"I'd like you to get on the bed for me," Remus said against Harry's lips. "On your back."

"Okay," Harry agreed dizzily, eager to do whatever Remus wanted, already wanting more, as much as he could get. 

He scrambled onto the bed, lying back against the sheets and barely controlling the urge to bury his head in Remus's pillows and inhale deep. Instead, he looked at Remus who was standing at the foot of the bed, his gaze intent on Harry as his hand lazily stroked his prick. Harry's own hands twitched at his sides with the urge to touch, his stomach muscles spasming with nervous desire. Remus crawled onto the bed after him, looking every inch the predator, but if Harry as prey, then he was willing, eager even, to be so. He reached for Remus with grabby hands, his fingers tugging at Remus's hair until their mouths met, and Harry could taste the curve of Remus's smile. 

The kiss didn't last nearly long enough for Harry's liking, but that was because Remus began licking and nipping his way down Harry's body, and Harry figured that was pretty fucking okay, as far as trade-offs went. Remus's lips skimmed over his clavicle, his breast bone, the dip of his belly, each touch sending a cascade of shivers skating out across Harry's skin. His chin brushed against the leaking head of Harry's throbbing cock, and pleasure jolted through him, so fast and intense that he almost kneed Remus in the face. Harry wanted to die of embarrassment, but Remus only flashed him a wolfish smile, before wrapping a hand around the base of Harry's prick and swallowing him whole.

Harry definitely didn't _scream_ , but he came pretty close to it, the feeling of wet, hot, friction short-circuiting his brain. He'd never felt anything like it before, never experienced anything even close to the pure pleasure surrounding his dick, and as keyed up as he already was, it didn't take long for his climax to rush through him. Remus only managed a couple bobs of his head before Harry was reaching for him, tugging desperately at his hair in warning as words completely failed him. Remus either didn't understand that Harry was about to come, or he didn't care, because he just kept sucking, coaxing Harry's release out of him with the slick heat of his mouth. Harry shuddered and melted into the bed, his body boneless in the wake of such an intense orgasm, the first he'd ever shared with another person. He blinked blearily up at the ceiling, his hand unconsciously carding through Remus's hair as he slowly released Harry's prick.

"All right?" Remus asked as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees over Harry.

Harry nodded, a silly smile spreading across his face. "Bloody brilliant."

Remus grinned back at him, and the pure pleasure on his face took years off of him. Harry didn't mind Remus's age, but Remus always carried so much weight on his shoulders. It was nice to see him relaxed and happy. "Sorry for coming so quickly," Harry said, a small sliver of self-consciousness managing to slide its way through Harry's post-orgasm high.

Remus shook his head. "Don't be. I wanted you to come. Takes the edge off so I can take my time with the next bit."

Harry's cock had already started stirring again in interest. "So we're not done?"

"Not unless you want to be," Remus replied, his eyes hot as they lingered on Harry's lips. "I believe you said something earlier about wanting me to fuck you?"

Harry didn't have it in him to be embarrassed by the sound he made in response. Harry wasn't sure he'd ever heard Remus swear before, and there was something so unbelievably filthy and hot about the word _fuck_ rolling out of his mouth, particularly in this context. "Yeah," Harry said with a nod. "I definitely still want that."

"Then why don't you turn over onto your stomach for me."

Remus pushed himself onto his knees to give Harry room, and Harry dutifully turned over, something hot and squirmy wriggling around in his belly as he settled into the new position. There was something vulnerable in it, in turning his back on a predator, in splaying himself out, naked and defenseless. It wasn't a bad feeling, though, just new and intense. Harry trusted Remus; he knew he didn't have anything to fear, not with him. A part of Harry missed being able to see Remus, didn't want to miss a moment of Remus touching him, but there was a thrill in not looking, in not knowing what was going to happen next.

Broad hands pressed against his shoulder blades before dragging down his back, firm thumbs framing his spine as they dug into muscle and sinew. Harry groaned and arched into it, eager and shameless. Those hands continued down, the pads of Remus's thumbs skating over his cleft, smoothing over the curve of his arse cheeks before dipping into Harry's crease and pulling, parting Harry's flesh to reveal his arsehole. He clenched down on reflex and let out a shaky breath, knowing that Remus was looking at him, staring at a place nobody had ever seen before. The fingers gripping his arse squeezed, digging into Harry's bum as they spread him wider, holding him open for Remus's fervent gaze.

Harry wasn't quite sure what he'd expected to happen next, but the soft wetness gliding up his cleft certainly wasn't it. It took him a moment to realise what he was feeling was Remus's tongue, that the hot, slick pressure against his rim was Remus licking at him with serious intent. Harry's entire body trembled as Remus stimulated nerve-endings Harry hadn't ever known existed. His muscles contracted and relaxed at uneven intervals, melting beneath Remus's skilled tongue and spasming with pure gratification. Harry hadn't ever imagined this, hadn't realised that this was something he should be dreaming of, but he wouldn't be making that mistake again. Harry wasn't sure he'd ever be able to wank again without remembering how fucking amazing it felt to have Remus's tongue licking into his arse. 

By the time Remus finally worked a slick finger inside of him, Harry was already a desperate, writhing mess. His cock had fully hardened once more, and he felt half-mad with need. He wriggled back into the insistent press of Remus's finger, the feeling strange, but not unpleasant. It stung, when Remus added a second, but Remus licked at him in silent apology, and when he crooked those fingers just so, that lingering ache dissipated like so much smoke in the breeze. The sound Harry made as Remus rubbed against his prostate was pure animal want, and it must have done something to Remus, because he growled in response, the blunt edge of his teeth scraping over the curve of Harry's arse as he added a third finger. 

It took longer this time for the sting of Remus's pumping fingers to fade, but Remus continued to work him over with steady patience, petting him inside and out until all that was left of Harry was need and sensation. He went loose and pliant beneath Remus hands, and when Remus's fingers slid out of him to tug at his hips, Harry went easily to his hands and knees. 

His belly flipped over on itself as he realised this was it. There was a part of him that wanted to turn over, wanted to see Remus's face as he worked his way inside, but he couldn't deny the thought of Remus mounting him just like this sent heat racing through his veins. Besides, he'd read an article once that said it was easier like this, for your first time, and Remus clearly agreed. Or maybe he just liked the visual of seeing Harry on his hands and knees. Either way, Harry didn't mind. He was finally getting what he wanted.

Remus's hand gripped Harry's left arse cheek and pulled, opening him up for the slick head of Remus's cock. It rubbed against him, once, twice, and Harry couldn't help but tense up against the potential invader.

"I need you to relax for me, Harry," Remus said, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "When I start pressing in, I want you to push out against me. It'll feel weird, but it can help with the pain."

Harry took a deep, shuddering breath. "All right, I can do that."

"You ready?"

He nodded. "Yeah, ready."

Harry focused on keeping himself loose and relaxed, fighting against the instinct to clench down when Remus began to press inside. It hurt, even after all of Remus's careful preparation, but Harry had been expecting that, and it wasn't anywhere near as bad as he'd thought it might be. He panted through the intensity of sensation, using his internal muscles to push back as Remus began to slowly inch his way inside. It felt like half an eternity, but eventually Remus made it all the way in, the full length of his cock buried completely inside Harry's body.

Remus's hands ran down Harry's back and sides, soothing him as if he were a skittish colt. It was nice, grounding, the easy glide of Remus's palms on Harry's skin, distracting him from the hardness that seemed to pulse and throb inside of him. Harry's hands dug into the sheets beneath him, his head hanging down as he breathed deep. It felt like his body was rearranging itself, like his insides were reconfiguring to make space for Remus. The pain faded to low thrum, and heady desire swelled to take its place. 

"Okay," Harry breathed out. "You can…"

 

Remus knew what Harry wanted, his hands sliding back down to grip Harry's waist as he slowly eased out and thrust back in. He started gentle and shallow, and every thrust of his hips pushed garbled moans from Harry's mouth. Harry arched beneath him, silently begging for more, and Remus didn't disappoint, gradually picking up the pace, giving it to him harder, deeper. There was still an underlying ache as Remus fucked his way inside, but it only served to make the pleasure sweeter, made the sparks dancing across his vision when Remus brushed against his prostate all the brighter. 

"God, _Remus_ ," Harry moaned, his mouth hanging open as he struggled to breathe beneath the tidal wave of euphoria threatening to drown him. He'd been undeniably curious about this act, of course, and he'd always imagined he'd enjoy it, but he'd never known, never could have conceived, that it would feel this fucking good. Every plunge of Remus's cock unmade him, his atoms vibrating apart and smashing together as Remus took him again and again. It was groundbreaking, earth-shatteringly intense, and Harry wasn't sure how he was going to get anything done ever again. As far as he was concerned, any moment spent not experiencing this pleasure would be a moment wasted. 

His cock swayed beneath him in time to Remus's gyrating hips, precome leaking onto Remus's bedspread. As amazing as it felt to have Remus inside of him, Harry knew it wouldn't be enough to make him come all on its own. His orgasm continued to build and build, but the final crest was just out of reach. He wanted to touch himself, wanted to fuck into his fist as Remus continued fucking his arse, but his bones had destabilised under Remus's devastating thrusts, and even with both hands digging into the mattress, Harry was barely holding on. 

"I—I need—"

Once again, Remus seemed to know exactly what Harry couldn't quite manage to say. His hand slid around Harry's waist, his fingers wrapping around Harry's prick with a sure, firm grip. 

" _Fuck_ ," Harry groaned as Remus began to jack him off, his thrusts never slowing. It was all so good, _too_ good, pleasure building inside him like a pressure cannon, filling every last bit of space inside him until there was nothing left to do but explode. Harry fell to his elbows as he came, his arms collapsing with the force of his climax. The change in angle made Harry's eyes roll back as Remus ground in deep, his measured strokes stilling as Harry shuddered and whined through his orgasm. 

It took Harry several moments to come back to himself, blinking sweat out of his eyes as he carefully released his fingers from the sheets. Remus was still hard and thick inside him, and he clenched down experimentally. The flare of pleasure was so sharp it edged closer to pain, his body still shivery and over-sensitive in the aftermath of his release. Remus and his keen eyes didn't miss a thing, and he braced a warm hand on Harry's lower back as he slowly eased out of Harry's arse. 

The sudden emptiness was disconcerting, and Harry whimpered at the loss, but Remus was there to sooth him, a calloused thumb rubbing at his hole and pressing gently inside. Harry shivered as Remus pulled at his rim, and a familiar sound had Harry turning to look back over his shoulder. 

Remus's eyes were lust-blown and hungry, intent upon where his thumb was teasing Harry's arse. Harry's mouth went dry as he took in Remus's expression, so covetous and turned on that it made Harry burn to know he was the object of such emotion. His gaze slipped down, and the fire inside Harry intensified when he saw that Remus was getting himself off, his hand a blur on his cock as he stared at Harry's arsehole. He wondered what he looked like, if his rim was red and puffy, if he was still slick and loose and open from having Remus's cock in him just moments before. Harry couldn't help but clench up at the thought of it, muscles rippling around the tip of Remus's thumb. 

The sound Remus made when he came was practically inhuman, his eyes almost glowing as he came all over Harry's arse. Harry felt marked, owned, as Remus's come splashed hot and sticky against his skin, sliding down the curves of his arse, dripping across his arsehole. Remus was still playing with him, and Harry was certain he wasn't imagining that Remus pushing some of his release inside, claiming Harry from the inside out. Harry was pretty sure it was the hottest thing that had ever happened. If he'd had the energy just then, he might have been concerned about his future sexual encounters, because surely nothing would ever be able to compare.

He floated a bit afterwards, collapsing onto his stomach and shamelessly burying his nose in Remus's pillows, inhaling the sweet, spicy scent of him. Vaguely, he was aware of Remus moving about, cleaning them both off with a gentle charm and tidying up, before he joined Harry on the bed. Remus was quiet as he slipped beneath the sheets, but he didn't ask Harry to leave, just held open his arms so that Harry could burrow in closer, his hand stroking up and down Harry's back. It was perfect, easy, but Harry knew it wasn't really that simple. Even with the physical closeness, Harry could sense the distance already growing between them. He knew all too well how easily Remus could drown himself in guilt and self-loathing.

"Stop feeling guilty," Harry mumbled against Remus's chest. Remus's hand stilled briefly, before resuming its steady path along Harry's spine.

"I'm not," Remus replied with faux lightness. Harry snorted.

"Liar." He pressed up a bit so he could look into Remus's eyes. "I don't know about you, but from my end, that was pretty amazing. _You_ were amazing. I couldn't have imagined anything better." He paused, feeling nervous and uncertain. "I don't want you to regret it. I'd—" His voice broke, and he looked down at Remus's chest. "I don't know if I could handle that, if one of the best things that ever happened to me was something you wish you'd never done."

Remus sighed and pressed his lips to Harry's brow. "I don't regret it Harry. I _don't_ ," he said emphatically, when Harry made a face. "But you can't deny it's...complicated. You're half my age, and the son of one of my best mates. I mean, I used to be your bloody professor. And I know you're an adult, Merlin knows you've gone through more than most adults do in their lifetime, but you never really got to be a teenager. You're only just discovering sex and there's so much more out there for you to experience." He ran a hand through his hair and down his face, his expression tired. "I'm a middle-aged, recently widowed werewolf with an infant son. I know you think you know what you want, and I promise I'm not trying to make decision for you, but I do remember what it was like to be your age. Everything changes so fast, and you're still figuring out who you are." Harry opened his mouth to interrupt again, but Remus shook his head and smiled softly, placing a gentle finger on Harry's lips. "And we live together, Harry. I know you like having us here, and I like it, too. Teddy adores you. But part of why we came here in the first place was because my being a werewolf made it difficult for me to find another place for us to live. With a little time, I'm certain I could find something if I needed to, but right now, my son and I are dependant on you for the roof over our heads."

Harry couldn't keep silent at that. "You know I'd never kick you out. No matter what happens between us."

"I know, Harry. But—"

"You don't...that's not why you did this, was it?" Harry asked, panic rushing through him. "I would never ask you to—" 

"No, of course not. Harry, please, it's all right." Remus's voice was commanding and gentle, his palm soothing as it rubbed steady circles against his back. "I didn't do anything that I didn't want to, Harry. Please don't think you coerced me. I just wanted to point out that a relationship between us is not a simple thing."

"Why can't it be? I like you. I want you, for more than just sex, more than just this once. And you want me, too, don't pretend that you don't."

"I never said otherwise. And I'm not saying we can't try, or that it never should have happened, or that it won't happen again. All I'm asking is that I'd like us to think about it, take it slow. Tonight...I don't regret it, but I think we got ahead of ourselves. I care for you very much, Harry, but I don't want either of us to rush into this. There's too much at stake."

Harry frowned, but despite the small, petulant part of him that wanted to stomp his feet and throw a fit, he knew that Remus was right. Remus was thinking about this practically, logically, and though it might be more romantic to throw caution to the wind, Remus didn't have that luxury. He had a child to look out for. If Remus needed them to slow things down, needed them to consider every angle before leaping, then Harry could do that. Remus was worth it.

"All right," Harry said softly. "I won't push."

Tension left Remus in a visible rush, and he sagged back against the bed. "Thank you, Harry. It's not…it's not a no. But we have a lot to work out."

Harry nodded, hesitating before asking, "Did you need me to go, then?" 

"No," Remus replied. "You can stay here with me tonight if you'd prefer." He paused, before adding. "I'd like that."

Harry smiled, relief and pleasure swirling inside him. "I'd like that, too."

He settled back down, curling up against Remus's chest as Remus turned off the lamp with a swish of his wand. Beneath his cheek, Remus's heart beat out a calming cadence, his chest rising and falling with steady purpose. Harry felt at peace, here, in Remus's arms, surrounded by his scent and his body, his marks not yet faded from Harry's skin. Remus couldn't promise him forever, not yet, but he'd at least said he would try. Harry would just have to prove to Remus that he was serious, that he wasn't going anywhere, that the two of them together could work.

It wasn't everything Harry wanted, but it was enough. For now.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the 2018 Harry Potter Cross Gen Fest. The author will be revealed on August 31.


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